Puncture Repair
by WhisperedMuse
Summary: After the ruling in the Henderson case, Martha calls Fatima Henderson to break the bad news. Billy is there to help with the aftermath, just like he always is. Follow-on from the scene in 2x05 exploring Billy and Martha's friendship. One shot.


Having watched all three series of Silk I'm a bit hooked. I've been away from writing properly for some time but I wanted to ease myself back in so I can start improving again because I really miss it. So better to do that than with some fanfiction! This is set during 2x05 just after Martha calls Fatima Henderson about the verdict of her son's case. I love the relationship Billy has with Martha (and Clive) so I wondered why, after all the fuss he made about her not taking the case, he didn't go and see her when she heard the news. Anyway, unbeta'd, edited a little but I just wanted to get it out there - I hope you enjoy it. The standard of Silk fanfic is amazing so I hope I've done it justice!

Kate

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_I leaned on you today... You patched me up and sent me on my way..._

"Fatima… It's Martha. I don't know what to say…" She truly didn't know the words she was supposed to use to tell this woman her son would die because of her failure. Her thoughts were tearing away with her so fast that she couldn't think straight; they tunnelled their way from her brain down to her throat where they quickly burned and turned to ash, leaving her to choke on the 'whys' and 'maybes' only to be left with silence. There was only so long that she could gape and hold back tears, listening to this poor woman cry for her from thousands of miles away. She was vaguely aware of someone entering the room and tapping John on the shoulder but it was inconsequential; she appreciated John staying for support but it didn't stop how lonely and powerless she was feeling. The sobs she could hear crisp and loud in her ear drowned out everything and she wanted desperately both to end the call and to stay and comfort Fatima.

Billy opened the door to Martha's office, fully expecting to see the Q.C by herself, sitting in quiet contemplation. Instead he saw John's back, his hands clasped behind it clutching each other so hard he was losing circulation. Martha _was_ at her desk; phone to her ear, looking more conflicted than he had ever seen her. Every thought of doctors, treatments and other trivial things was replaced with concern for Martha Costello and what she was exposing herself to in that very moment. He knew full well she hated people seeing her vulnerable and John would not be welcome for much longer. Tapping him sharply on the left shoulder, he waited for the younger clerk to turn around and actually see him. It took a moment for John to shake the horror from his eyes and fully recognise Billy before the senior clerk turned his head towards the door with intent. Catching the hint, John left quickly, retreating to the safety of the clerks' room to busy himself with the menial, replacing memories of the all-too horrific truth.

One tear fell from her eye, slowly making its way down her face and running over her lips. More tears followed that first one and her fingers held her mobile phone even tighter than she thought possible. She began to shake as her nervous system reacted to the shock and she couldn't escape the screaming coming from the other end of the phone. It wasn't just Fatima now, but her daughters as well. Why was there so much _noise_?

She felt someone behind her and hoped to God it wasn't John. A hand landed gently on her shoulder, and another wrapped round the hand that clutched her phone, softly pulling the small object from her grip and ending the call with one push of a button. Martha almost snapped out of it then, angry that she hadn't been able to respectfully say goodbye to Fatima but she was too numb to care that much. Tiredly she looked up at Billy who was still standing over her, concern etched onto his face. He placed her phone onto the desk and leant against it so he was almost sat facing her. There was an air of expectation about the situation, but Martha didn't want to be forthcoming with much. Billy had been right - about everything. She cleared her throat cautiously, trying to gauge how much voice she possessed.

"You can say it." Her voice was so small, defeated, as she leant her elbows on her desk, cradling her chin in her hands. She remembered how insistent Billy had been about her not taking the case. And how she'd thought it was only because he wanted her to take on Jodie Farr instead. Honestly she had thought he had blinkers on when it came to any form of work from Mickey Joy and he had been so pigheaded at the time. Then again, so had she.

"Say what, Miss?" He asked gently, stretching his legs outwards and crossing one over the other to stabilise himself against her desk. All the while he looked down at her with expectancy in his eyes.

"I told you so." He had every right to, after all. She swiped at the tears running down her cheeks quickly, trying to eradicate the evidence of the previous upset.

"I'm not here to gloat." He was firm in making sure she understood then, he had no motive other than her welfare. "Are you alright?" At this point she could feel his stare going through her and she found herself wanting to hide the extent of her distress from him, despite the fact he had just witnessed her near-meltdown whilst she was on the phone. There wasn't much point in lying, he knew her better than she knew herself sometimes - nearly all the time. No doubt he had some sort of sixth sense when it came to her.

"No." One word was all she was required to say. Billy tilted his head to the side and frowned even deeper than before. She breathed in deeply, expelling the breath in a rush to try and rid herself of some of her guilt with the carbon dioxide. "A young man is going to die in three days and it's my fault." There was a definite wobble in her voice that she tried hard to ignore, but the weakness she showed only fuelled her frustration at the entire situation. Coming off of her elbows, she threw down the pen she had been fiddling with and leant back in her chair, turning a little to face him. It was almost an invite for him to rationalize for her, with her. She looked at where the pen had landed, though, still not properly making eye contact with him.

"A young man is going to die in three days because he committed a crime, that's not your fault."

"That's not the point." A sharp retort, delivered quicker than a bullet rocketing from a gun. Nerve hit there, Billy.

"No, I think it is the point." Despite her lack of eye contact she was listening to him. "He was guilty, you were aware of that going in. All the suffering his family is going through is because _he_ committed a crime." Now she was looking at him. She was horrified, but she was looking at him, aghast that he could say such a thing, no doubt.

"He was a child and he made a mistake!" An interjection. Well, now he'd started making her angry he might as well carry on… She was processing it now and he had to help her rationalize her involvement in this. Martha felt for everyone she represented if she believed in them; so Billy had to destroy that belief before it destroyed her; even if it meant assassinating the character of the poor boy on Death Row. He plowed on through before she could say anymore, raising his voice a little.

"And on top of that; what's not sitting well with you is the fact that his punishment is death, not that he's being punished to start with; and no matter what happened in that courtroom, by law that punishment would _still_ be death. You couldn't change that!" He put a hand on the desk, then. Leaning into it so he was a bit closer to her conflicted face. She knew he was right, but she was fighting him still. Breathing out his frustration, he lowered his voice and reigned in his temper; looking her right in the eyes.

"Your job was to get him a stay. Did that happen? No. Did that change his punishment? No again. Did it mean you could have done your job better? I don't think so. Not for one second, Miss; because you are the best there is and I know you fought damn hard for that kid and his mother." Billy watched as a few stray tears fell quickly down her cheeks. Martha swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to eradicate the images of a teenage boy making himself a coffin from her head. She watched Billy stand and make his way to the door, turning back to look at her when his hand was on the handle. He didn't mention the tears – she knew he never would. "Let's go for a drink, I know I could use one." Shaking her head, she blinked hard, tapping the tips of her fingers on the arm of her chair.

"I'd rather just go home..." He nodded in acknowledgement.

"Then I'll drop you there, I'm not leaving you like this." Standing shakily, Martha grabbed her bag and a few case files to look over at home, looking over her desk for anything she may have missed. Picking up her mobile, she dumped it unceremoniously in the bottom of her bag. Opening the door with one hand, Billy left the other one outstretched behind him, ready to rest it on the small of her back as she exited her office. There was something awfully comforting in it, a gesture small and concealed yet it meant more to her than anything that had been said or done that day. Then she guessed that those thoughts were exactly what summed up Billy. He was always there to help; comfort, support but no one ever saw it. Martha knew that's why she regarded him so highly.

The two of them left Chambers together in the back of a taxi, both knowing they would never speak of their exchange that night ever again.

_You were there... Puncture repair..._

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_If you have time to let me know you're thoughts, please do. Thanks for reading!_


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